


Pride Goeth Before the Fall

by TheLastNero



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Sugar Daddy, Blow Jobs, Bottom Tom, Bottoming from the Top, Car Sex, Coffee Shops, Daddy Kink, Face-Fucking, Face-Sitting, Humiliation, Law Student Harry, M/M, Praise Kink, Public Humiliation, Semi-Public Sex, Sugar Baby Harry, Sugar Daddy Tom, Topping from the Bottom, unbetaed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-14
Updated: 2018-02-14
Packaged: 2019-03-18 16:51:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,515
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13685775
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheLastNero/pseuds/TheLastNero
Summary: “Don’t lie to me again, and this can work.”An eyebrow raised on Harry’s face reflexively. “This?”“I have what you need. And you,” Tom drawled, taking a step back to look Harry up and down, “Have what I want.”This did not seem equal in any measure, and everything within Harry screamed that this wouldn’t end well, but for once, he allowed his pride to dictate his actions.He would do it.///Harry needs money. A sugar daddy doesn't sound half-bad. However, Tom seems to defy any and all expectations he might have had going into this situation. Whether that is a good or a bad thing is to be determined.





	Pride Goeth Before the Fall

**Author's Note:**

> I started writing this around New Years, but only finished it just now for Valentine's Day, lol. I totally didn't swap around all the New years references for Valentines references. No siree.  
> We need more in-character bottom Tom in the fandom tbh. I'm no Katsitting, but I try my best at smut writing nonetheless. xD

Harry was nervous for a multitude of reasons. One, he had never done anything like  _ this  _ before. Two,  _ this  _ carried what he felt like an inherent risk in and of itself. And worst of all, three, the guy was bloody gorgeous.

He definitely didn’t  _ look  _ like he was in his mid-forties. Although, Harry wasn’t sure if that eased his nerves or aggravated them moreso. If this man was so attractive, so well-off… why did he  _ need _ to go on a website seeking such an…  _ arrangement? _

Whether Harry would have been asking himself that question had the man have been completely hideous, he didn’t know. He had expected someone a bit older, a bit less charismatic, a bit less… forgiving than Mr. Riddle had been when they first spoke with each other online over SeekingArrangement and then, later, text.

Harry hadn’t had tremendously high hopes when he joined the website devoted to the exchange of ‘sugar’ through relationships. The concept itself was so glamorous to him, the allure of high society and no cares beside what to wear and who to be seen with-- Or so he thought, until he started receiving lewd messages from men, and sometimes women, whom he really had little to no interest in. However, he was desperate. University wasn’t cheap, after all, and after his parents’ deaths and the mysterious disappearance of his inheritance, Harry was barely scraping by. And that wasn’t to mention the ever-looming presence of his student loans that would, someday, catch up with him. When one of his friends slyly suggested getting a sugar daddy, Harry had initially brushed it off, but now…

Well. Now, he was standing in front of some coffee-shop, trying to peek through the windows to see if his “date” had already arrived. They had decided to meet in a public place for their first meeting, to which Harry was duly grateful. He didn’t particularly want to give the older man the wrong idea and lure him to believe he was some kind of glorified prostitute, despite the niggling thought at the back of his mind that basically proclaimed he  _ was  _ one. 

The website had a clear policy against prostitution. This was simply to be a relationship with…  _ other  _ benefits. Whether that lasted for the night or for years to come was to the discretion of those involved. Harry just hoped he wouldn’t have to sacrifice too much of his dignity in the process.

The invitation itself had come on rather short notice and Harry almost hadn’t taken it. Tonight was Valentine’s Day, after all. When he had opened his inbox earlier that morning, he had expected to go through a few messages, look through a few profiles, but ultimately not pursue anything out of sheer discomfort. One message, and consequently, one profile, had changed all of that. 

Tom, as Harry learned his name to be (whether it was real or not remained to be discovered; he didn’t receive a surname), didn’t have a picture of his face in his profile. His profile itself was very stark, but then again, Harry thought cynically, he doubted many pursers of sugar daddies cared much about their prospective caretaker’s actual personalities and interests, preferring hard numbers instead.

What had caught Harry’s interest had been the fact that the older man had apparently paid excruciatingly specific attention to the details Harry had included in his own profile, things that he himself had forgotten. In a sea of messages simply asking how big is cock was and if he was a top or bottom, it was refreshing. However, this in turn  lead to his current dilemma.

There had to be  _ something  _ wrong with this guy, if he seriously couldn’t get a date otherwise. There  _ had _ to be. 

Harry glanced up from his phone, trying to look casual as he glanced into the coffeeshop once more. Tom had sent him a single picture of his face. It could very well have been fake, a lure, but… Harry’s curiosity had been piqued. He didn’t look a day over 30, yet supposedly was in his mid-40’s, a self-made entrepreneur of sorts, from Harry’s understanding. He hadn’t had the chance to delve further when perhaps he should have. Dark hair, dark eyes, pale, flawless skin, and something so refined in his appearance made him completely and utterly not Harry’s usual type, but he couldn’t help but be attracted to the man’s image nonetheless. It was...odd. 

If he didn’t take this opportunity, he felt, he would gravely regret it. Moreso than the regret he would feel if something bad happened  _ during _ this endeavor.

Harry took a deep breath, before putting his phone away in his pocket and beginning to walk toward the shop entrance. The door, transparent with the daily special written across it with dry erase marker, stood unassumingly open. He paused in front of it, still ever so cautious, to read, or at least pretend to read, what coffees and teas were available, as if they were suddenly more interesting than what else could be awaiting him inside.

“Excuse me--”

Or, rather to his ignorance,  _ who  _ might be awaiting him  _ outside _ .

“Ah, sorry--” Harry took a step back and turned to make room for the stranger to enter the cafe, except--

It was  _ him _ .

He stood in front of Harry, amusement glittering in his eyes, an elegant eyebrow quirked with a slight wrinkle in his forehead from his expression. Harry gaped at him and blinked rapidly, before closing his mouth and pursing his lips awkwardly into a smile.

“Oh. It’s you.”

“It’s me,” the older man’s voice lilted. Harry wanted to crawl into a hole, except there was no running off now, of all times. Butterflies wracked his stomach, but he’d swallow them down.

Tom was much more attractive in person than in picture form, Harry decided, to his disdain. That wasn’t anything unusual, as the way a person carried himself often was what drew Harry most to a person, however…  With the way Tom was currently staring at him, Harry felt as though he would sooner be eaten alive than be taken out to eat.

Tom took a hold of the door and gestured toward the inside of the cafe. “After you, Harry.”

Harry bit his lip and entered the shop, feeling those eyes on his back as if they were physically rubbing against him.  He almost picked a table near the window to look out onto the street, or perhaps simply be in plain view of the general public, just in case, but decided against it after remembering the sorts of things that they had agreed upon discussing. 

Talking about his finances in front of other people wasn’t an especially good way of preserving his dignity, he thought, and instead chose a small table in a dimly lit corner off to the side. Not that he particularly wanted privacy. That was not the reason whatsoever, he told himself. This was business. He wasn’t here to… be  _ romantic _ with this man. To become attached might hurt him more than anything. No, this was about mutual benefits, as the website put it.

Tom followed confidently without any argument, the corner of his lips slightly upturned as if he had expected Harry to make every decision he’d made so far. Or maybe it was simply Harry’s overthinking of the situation. Probably the latter.

As Harry made to step forward to the table, Tom finally made a movement on his own accord, stepping in around him in order to pull out his chair. Harry looked back at Tom in surprise, before sitting down. 

His partner returned across from him with a smile and almost immediately, a server was upon them to ask their orders. It was a rather slow day, Harry realised, but still, he was surprised nonetheless that this was a place where the staff actually took orders from tables instead of at the front. 

“Green tea, please. And a blueberry muffin?” 

“Coffee. Black.”

With the server gone, the two were left alone at their table to silence. 

Harry didn’t quite know how to start. He wouldn’t admit the fact that he was intimidated, but-- well, he was.

Tom seemed to notice as much. “So. How is university going so far?”

He was dying, that’s how it was going. Except there had to be a better way of saying that. Harry had read that most sugar daddies appreciated a certain type of front. Harry doubted the man would care much for his problems when he himself was seeking out a sugar baby for company as a way of escaping his everyday life’s problems. It was just logical.

“It’s going alright, I think. I’ve been keeping my grades up--” at the expense of his social life and mental stability; working a part-time job and studying took its toll, after all-- “And I really do love what I’m studying--” well, some of his classes; law had interesting requisitions, but the subject itself was horribly dull-- “Although--”  _ shit _ , what else could he say without being entirely negative--

Tom sighed and leaned back in his chair. Harry felt the man’s eyes look him up and down.

That… couldn’t have been a good sign. Was he getting bored? Was sugaring always this… anxiety wracking?

“But?”

Harry blinked. “But… what?”

“Here you two are.” 

Harry looked to the side to find their server, drinks on tray. The woman quickly passed them their drinks with a nod and a smile. Harry grasped his tea in both hands, the warmth of it welcoming after standing out in the cold for so long. 

His confusion must have shown on his face.

Tom tilted his head. “What do you find interesting about the law, in particular, that made you want to study it and make a career out of it?”

Harry frowned instinctually before he could catch himself. That millisecond and the realisation that followed it made him blush, but his pleasant, rehearsed smile returned. 

Really, he would have preferred not to have to mention his dead parents when the topic of his major came up, for once. But it was always such a common question, he should have had a fake reason conjured up by now--

“Aw-- well. I uh-- like the idea of criminals being brought to justice.” That was wholesome, wasn’t it?

Tom’s face made an odd expression. “Well, what is justice? To you--” he drawled.

For some reason, Harry felt like… he was being tested. What was going on, exactly?

He furrowed his eyebrows. “I--” He paused, thinking.  _ How was he going to go around this subject? _

Tom waited for an an answer that never came. Harry couldn’t respond-- or, rather, he didn’t want to, and waited for Tom to change the conversation to  _ something else, because hell if he’d be the one to evade a question. _

The silence persisted for an amount of time that left Harry squirming in his seat at the sheer uncomfortableness of the whole situation.

The older man sighed and shook his head, before standing up. His chair scraped against the brick of the floor with an annoying squeak.

“If you’re going to waste my time, don’t waste others’ by labelling yourself  ‘educated’ and ‘intellectual’ when you can’t even defend your opinions that decide the rest of your life.” Tom narrowed his eyes and almost peeked through his lashes at Harry. 

Harry felt both confusion and anger bubble up inside of him. What the hell? He furrowed his brow trying to figure out what the hell he had done to set this guy off. He’d been polite-- what, did being quiet suddenly mean he was dumb? From his understanding, he’d just have to look pretty on dates or “offer his company” to the man in bed later on.

“Excuse me, but--” he started petulantly, but was interrupted rather rudely.

Tom tutted. “I’ll admit, you’re good at playing a part, but not everyone falls for that.”

Harry’s hands clenched around his teacup, not paying the heat of it any mind out of sheer rage. That’s what this was about? Playing a part? What did this guy really want? Or rather, what the hell did he expect to get out of this situation? Harry had never done this before, but he could have sworn, from all that he had read on the internet, that it wasn’t supposed to go like  _ this _ .

“It’s annoying, really.”

Tom sidled up the edge of the table to stand in front of Harry. Harry’s head was at chest level with him, except he kept his gaze firmly fixated on his teacup, as if in shame.

Wait. What the hell did he owe to this random guy, anyway, to have him make him feel like this? To be humiliated?

“I was expecting more from you. You had led me to believe you were someone else, it seems. Now,” Tom’s voice drew quiet. “Why would you do that, Harry?”

This was happening. This man… had to be doing this on purpose. He was getting off on this, or something. Harry was, for all intents and purposes, a mouse being played with by the cat before being eaten alive.

He didn’t respond. For some reason, a faint heat tainted his cheeks, as if the scolding was deserved. His hands relaxed their grip on the teacup, but he couldn’t rip his eyes away from it. He didn’t want to look at the older man.

A hand landed near his and Harry flinched slightly as Tom leaned forward toward him. If he looked up, all he would see was Tom, he knew it. Still, he couldn’t bring himself to make the eye contact.

What was wrong with him?

Tom’s voice breathed near his ear. “Cat got your tongue? Or are you that thoughtless to begin with?”

That hand with its long fingers, bent and nimble, gripped the table with a startling firmness. Harry’s eyes had been drawn in their direction the moment the hand had placed itself in front of him.

A part of him wanted it on him instead--

No. Why was he still here? Why was he allowing himself to be played with like this? 

Tom sighed and his breath made Harry’s neck tingle. “You really are pathetic. Aren’t you? I’ll tell you what’s going to happen to you. You’re going to get burnt out. You’re going to hate the path you’ve chosen, but oh no-- you’re going to keep following it, because your pride won’t let you quit. Your pride seems so very precious to you, after all. You can’t even utter a word that may challenge it, can you?”

Tom leaned in uncomfortable close and Harry withdrew back into his chair, still not able to make any sort of eye contact. He couldn’t escape, he felt as though-- 

“And yet you allow yourself to be swayed by such materialistic things-- the money your path promises-- so swayed, in fact, that you’ll do anything to keep on that path-- Literally,  _ anything--”  _ Tom’s lips grazed Harry’s ear and the latter felt himself shudder.

“I’ll ask you this: where, dear Harry, is that pride now?”

Harry slammed his hands down on the table, shaking it so that his tea spilled, and rose from his chair. Tom took a quick step back so as to avoid collision.

“I’m gonna stick it up your ass, if you don’t fucking quit--” Harry raised his voice and raised his eyes to meet Tom’s penetrating stare. If he hadn’t been so angry, he may have been intimidated by the sheer intensity. 

“Excuse me for not wanting to divulge extremely personal information to someone I barely know when the subject is still fucking sore, but you don’t know me. Don’t fucking act like you can take one look at me and figure out my life story.” he didn’t know how loud he was yelling, but the cafe was dead silent around them.  “If your parents had been murdered, if your life had gone to shambles around you and everyone else still kept going on like nothing had happened while you’re a wreck, you’re going to cope the best way you can. If that means swallowing my fucking pride in order to do something with  _ meaning  _ to me, then--”   
Harry was cut off by a pair of lips pressing themselves furiously to his, prying his mouth open until he gasped. 

Tom was kissing him.

What. The. Hell.

He didn’t have time to think as teeth bit at his bottom lip aggressively and fuck,  _ he was gonna draw blood _ \-- 

_ He was kissing Tom _ .  Harry blinked rapidly and found himself pressing harder into the kiss, trying desperately to give as good as he got. His lips pried apart Tom’s and tongue met tongue until their lips were firmly locked. 

Both of Tom’s hands had reached up to hold his face in a bruising grip, nails scraping along the underside of Harry’s chin, sure to leave red marks in their wake, but Harry couldn’t bring himself to care, it was so  _ intense-- _

It felt as though Tom were trying to suck his soul out through his mouth and when Harry tried to retreat to regain his breath, the man just wouldn’t let him, instead plunging his tongue deeper into his mouth making it even more difficult to breath. Finally, Harry just pushed the other man off him roughly.

They both were left breathing heavily, eyes dilated, and lips swollen. Harry took a deep breath before speaking first, haphazardly.

“What the hell is your deal?” Another long intake of air.

Tom’s mouth curled in a nasty smirk. “You tell me.”

Harry gaped for words, before glaring. They were both at a stand-still, although in Harry’s opinion, obviously one of them had been reasonable in his deception and the other had been grossly unreasonable.

That smirk never left Tom’s face, however.

He hmphed and cocked his head. “Don’t lie to me again, and this can work.”

An eyebrow raised on Harry’s face reflexively. “This?”

“I have what you need. And you,” Tom drawled, taking a step back to look Harry up and down, “Have what  _ I  _ want.”

_ This  _ did not seem equal in any measure and everything within Harry screamed that  _ this  _ wouldn’t end well, but for once, he allowed his pride to dictate his actions.

He would do it.

They sat back down and made civil conversation like they hadn’t just had a yelling spat and made out in public. They drank their drinks and discussed topics that should have been reserved for more private settings as if they were truly an intimate couple that was perfectly comfortable with each other and as if neither partner felt as if they were being forced to bare their inner thoughts to the other.

Yet oddly enough, the situation, odd as it was, wasn’t entirely awful to Harry. It was… interesting. Still, though, he felt as if he was playing a very dangerous game, perhaps of poker, as a mouse against a cat where his tail might give him away as it wagged to indicate his nervousness, while his opponent, the aptly named Tom-cat, remained cool-headed with the ability to lash out at him at any given moment without any given indication.

As they rose to leave, Harry felt an arm coil around his waist tightly. It squeezed and Harry felt something else press between Tom’s hand and his clothes, before the hand dipped into his back pocket. 

_ Oh. _

He’d heard of sugar daddies giving sort of…  _ deposits _ for dates, but with how this one had begun, the idea had almost left Harry’s mind entirely. Maybe it hadn’t gone so badly after all. 

The barista at the front counter looked down at the floor as they passed by, staring at her phone as if it was the most interesting thing in the world. Harry blushed at the thought of how…  _ loud  _ their altercation must have been.

“So, Harry, what are your plans for this evening?”

“Uh. Well,  I know a few parties going on, I guess so I might stop by a few. The last few years I’ve hung out with my two best friends.” Except things were a bit different now, in that Ron and Hermione were dating. That threw a bit of a wrench into things.

Tom raised an eyebrow. “Do you drink?”

“Yes…?” Harry spoke hesitantly. He didn’t know how Tom would like that answer, but considered the way he acted when Harry tried to  _ lie _ , he supposed honesty was the best policy with him.

Tom pursed his lips tightly, but something glinted in his eyes. “Why don’t you spend the evening with me?”

He wasn’t sure what he was expecting, but it definitely wasn’t that. His first thought was what exactly would “the evening” entail. His heart picked up at the prospect of… he didn’t quite know.

This guy was kind of insane, but did it make Harry insane to be kind of into it? This whole situation was a lot more… exciting than he had ever imagined. Harry didn’t consider himself an adrenaline junkie or anything, but the unsurity that would normally worry him instead made him feel something…  _ different _ .

“All evening?” he asked, turning his head to meet Tom’s gaze.

Tom did not disappoint, holding his stare. “But of course. I’ll return you to your dorm in the morning. Or, perhaps noon, if you wish to stay… longer.” He licked his lips and Harry’s face heated at the prospect.

He took a deep breath, as if he was signing away his complete freedom for the night with a single word, because he was. “Okay.”

Tom smirked as he latched his arm around Harry’s waist once more, pulling him along as they walked toward where Harry presumed to be a parking lot. His voice lilted low and whispery. “Okay…?” he prompted.

Harry blinked. He had to say something, but---  _ What did he want him to say? Something to suit this guy’s power kink? Sir? _

Tom breathed out a cloud of air in the cold out of amusement and shook his head. They had halted in front of a black Cadillac Fleetwood, parked far away from any other car in the lot.

Suddenly, he had retracted his arm and Harry found himself pushed against the hood of the car so roughly, the wind got knocked out of him and his head went fuzzy from the impact.

Tom leaned over Harry, pressing his body flush against his, and tilted his head. “How about,” he whispered with the utmost precision, leaving Harry dangling on every word. “Daddy?”

Shivers wracked Harry’s spine and he couldn’t bring his gaze away from Tom’s.  _ Fuck, fuck, fuck _ \--

He took a deep breath, drawing Tom’s eyes to his lips. 

“Okay, daddy.” 

Two hands scooped up under his thighs and lifted Harry so he sat upon the hood of the car. He was quick to wrap his legs around Tom’s waist so as not to slip off, placing both hands on his shoulders, but his ass was  _ freezing _ all the while. The fact that they were both in broad daylight, it only being the afternoon, seemingly went ignored by Tom.

The older man was much more fixated on utterly overwhelming Harry’s mouth, his tongue writhing against his in a way that would have made Harry’s body turn to gelatin had he been standing. Tom apparently had no issue standing, going as far as to place a knee against the car as if he was seconds away from crawling on top of Harry himself. The latter would have honestly encouraged it if he could, the cold and the frustrating lack of friction when he lifted his hips making him desperate and frantic beneath Tom.

This did not go unnoticed by Tom who chuckled under his breath as he pulled away from Harry, a bit of saliva stringing between their lips. Harry resisted the urge to wipe his mouth as he stared up at Tom wide-eyed. 

“Why--?”

Tom began kissing up his neck, leaving a wet trail of too-cold spots completely depraved of the utter  _ heat _ of his breath, and Harry couldn’t help arching his back, leaning into Tom as the older man made his way up his neck. He tried to grind forward once more, but still found himself disconnected from Tom despite the legs wrapped around the man’s waist. He just couldn’t get close enough--

Harry let out a whimper as Tom took his ear into his mouth, teeth scraping and tongue licking against it, that hot breath drawing all of Harry’s focus on that one single burning spot in the cold of the winter, versus the heat burning in his veins and his neglected erection. 

His teeth chattered briefly as he withdrew a long breath, before finding himself whining once more as one of Tom’s hands groped him up and down, before landing on his clothed dick. 

“Daddy--” he breathed, his voice raw from the dry air, lifting his hips only for the hand to move up his torso and trace under his shirt. “Please--” He couldn’t think or else he might have been embarrassed, but Tom simply  _ did not allow him to think,  _ with what he was doing. All that mattered was  _ that was what Tom wanted him to call him and if that meant more of this-- _

“Please, what, baby?” Tom murmured in his ear, before brushing his lips against Harry’s skin, trailing along his jawline. “What can your daddy do for you, huh? 

Harry was shaking like a leaf, the chill of the outdoors hardening his nipples and making the blood rushing away from his brain even more dizzying. He blinked rapidly, the words unable to form at his chapped lips. The hand reaching up his shirt brushed against one of his nipples and the sensation irritated the already sensitive skin. Harry recoiled away, but as his back pressed harder against the cold hood of the car, Tom’s hand simply followed, punishing him with a harsh pinch that left Harry squirming.

A bite to the skin just above his adam’s apple caused Harry to gasp.

“A-anything, please T-t-- daddy.”

“ _ Anything _ , or  _ everything _ , baby?” Tom chuckled. “Greedy little minx, aren’t you? Expecting your daddy to do everything for you, including knowing exactly what you want?” He tsked and Harry blushed.

It was too much. At this rate, Harry was going to come in his pants, untouched, but he wasn’t able to bear the humiliation, despite the thought of the possibility making him even more hot and bothered. The heat flushing his body made him ache, a hot fever to the damp, itchy cold of their environment.

It was then that Tom withdrew, taking a step back abruptly. The action triggered something desperate within Harry.

“Please, don’t l--”

“Shhh--” called Tom, glancing off to the side and back to Harry. “We’re moving now.” He grabbed Harry’s wrist and pulled, causing the younger man to slide off the car. Once his feet landed on the ground, he found it difficult to stand upright without  tilting over, legs weak like a young fawn, and placed a hand on the car to steady himself. Meanwhile, Tom had opened the driver’s side of the car and started up the engine, before slamming the door and turning back to Harry. 

Harry followed his lead and walked over to where Tom was now motioning with his head toward the back door. Tom opened the door and just as Harry was about to step in, a firm hand pushed him and he landed sprawled out on his back across the back seat. 

His heart beat frantically as Tom kneeled in between his legs and shut the door behind him. His skin flushed as the car heated up and no longer was there cold to soothe his growing fever. 

Tom’s eyes glinted in amusement as he leaned down to capture Harry’s lips once more before running his long fingers over Harry’s chest until they reached the bottom hem of his shirt and lifted. Harry complied as he was undressed, until his bare back brushed against the black leather of the back seat.

Despite the warmth emanating from the seats and the arousal flushing his cheeks, the cold hands running along the length of his body made him shiver, tingles left in their wake. Tom’s eyes were turned downcast, devouring Harry’s body seemingly,  his thick lashes shielding Harry’s gaze from being able to see the dark, chocolatey brown of his irises. 

His breath caught in his throat, and he quivered in what may have been some sort of anticipation or want of approval.

Tom snapped out of his trance, and his hands jerked off of Harry’s skin to raise and tug at his own suit jacket, and then to slowly unbutton his shirt at a speed that left much to be desired. Harry blinked rapidly and cleared his throat, before meeting the gaze of a smirking Tom, who seemed to be enjoying the torment he was inflicting on the man below him.

Harry’s hands twitched, and he leaned up awkwardly to try to push Tom’s hands away and unbutton the shirt himself, but Tom simply chuckled, placing a firm hand on his chest, pushing him down, and making himself more comfortable on Harry’s lap.

Finally, the shirt came off, and, almost instantaneously compared to his shirt, Tom’s trousers were off soon after. Harry gulped upon realising that Tom, who had apparently completely foregone underwear entirely, was painfully hard right in front of him. 

His eyes lowered their lids as he took in the sight of the man’s cock-- the flushed head, the thick shaft, the small, bead of precum gracing the tip--

Tom shifted, the weight on his lap lifted, and suddenly Harry felt the world spin as Tom pushed his shoulders completely back against the seat. Upon trying to crane his head to look back up at him, Harry found Tom  _ much _ closer than before, his erection almost  _ touching  _ Harry’s face.

He let out a deep breath, and Tom grunted as he shifted his position once more.

His voice was low as a soft murmur slid off his tongue. “Why don’t you be a good boy and open up for daddy, huh?” Tom grasped Harry’s chin and slowly rubbed himself against the man’s cheek, not daring to graze his lips just yet.  “Let me use you the way all boys should?”

Harry licked his lips and found himself nodding along without even thinking, a hot mist over his senses that made his head fuzzy and warm and the instinct to just  _ do whatever he said _ took hold--

As Tom’s cock slid past his lips and fell heavy against his tongue, forcing him to open his mouth wide and to relax his jaw and just  _ take it,  _ he heard the sound of something snapped open and shut in the background, but was too deaf to the world to notice or care. 

Tom set a rhythm that Harry couldn’t have kept up with had he attempted to do so, pushing in and out of Harry’s mouth with little time for him to breathe through his mouth, forcing him to take in deep, shaky breaths through his nose as he thrusted in and out. Harry clenched one fist by his side as Tom’s cock reached his throat, and he had to will himself not to gag, but the sensation left him heady and only craving it once more. His other hand was perched at Tom’s waist, tight but not daring to push or pull Tom away or toward him, simply allowing the man to do as he pleased.

His lips swelled from the abuse, their sensitivity only heightening the drag of each thrust, and his own erection was throbbing painfully between his legs due to the act. 

Tom sighed shakily, taking deep breaths as he continued to fuck Harry’s mouth, bringing a hand off of Harry’s chest to grasp at the hand around his waist. 

Just when Harry thought he that was it, that he was going to come-- Tom froze and withdrew, a thin trail of spit strewn between his dick and Harry’s tongue.

Harry shut his mouth and swallowed down the excess spit, opening his eyes that he hadn’t known he’d shut to finally look back up at Tom.

His cheeks were a powdery pink, his mouth open and hair mussed, but what drew Harry’s eye the most was his hand-- particularly, what he was doing.

A hand reached behind his back was thrusting into himself, slowly but surely, and Harry was absolutely mesmerized at the sight. A bottle of lube sat on the seat behind Tom. Upon seeing the movement of Harry’s eyes, Tom’s lips twisted into a smirk, before he breathed out an amused chuckle.

“Grab it--” He nodded toward the bottle.

Harry’s eyes did not leave Tom as he reached awkwardly behind him, careful not to move the older man off his lap. While he was leaning, he turned his head and was able to see the exact point at which Tom’s fingers were thrusting in and out, his hole swallowing the long digits greedily as if longing for something more to fill it--

He licked his lips in anticipation and pushed himself back up to lean against the door of the car upon returning with the lube. 

Tom’s hand stilled and withdrew from behind him. He let out a deep sigh, and held an open palm before Harry, who blinked in confusion before placing the bottle in it.Tom stood on his knees off of Harry’s lap, before finally undoing the other man’s trousers and Pulling them and his boxer-briefs off in one fell swoop. He flicked open the container and squirted a generous amount of lube in his palm, before grasping Harry’s member in his hand.

The cold of the liquid against his blood-filled skin made him hiss, but the sheer anticipation of the event to come made him shiver even moreso.

“...Can’t wait to get this fucking cock inside me--” Tom was eyeing said cock like he was going to eat it alive, if anyone had asked Harry. He shuddered as Tom harshly gripped him, so hard it was beginning to be painful as he stroked it, lube and all. The harshness did not do anything to dampen Harry’s complete hard-on, however, only making him more anxious to finally fuck the older man.

“Daddy…”

He didn’t have to wait long. In seconds, Tom deemed Harry sufficiently prepared and began positioning himself over Harry’s cock, his hand moving to its base in a firm grasp. Harry held his breath as Tom lowered himself on him, before the tip slowly breached the tight ring of Tom’s hole, and the head was engulfed in its tight heat. 

Laying against the leather seat, Harry had to stop himself from squirming and rutting forward to thrust deeper at the slow pace Tom was sinking onto him. He nearly whimpered as Tom took his hand off his waist and pinned it back, lacing his fingers with his in a tight vice. Tom’s eyes were wild as they flicked between the point where the two’s bodies met and Harry’s face, seemingly trying to absorb the entire vision all at once, and Harry thought he saw something glint within the ever darkening shade of brown.

As Tom sat down toward the hilt of Harry’s cock, the latter man took a deep breath, only for it to be taken from him once more as Tom quickly rose and slammed down to the base again. His pace was continued as such, slow drags interspersed with quick, hard thrusts, leaving Harry under and overwhelmed simultaneously, all the while  _ begging  _ for some form of consistency.

“D-Daddy, please--”

“Please what, baby?” Tom leaned forward and breathed in Harry’s ear, causing him to arch his back and slightly thrust forward finally in a move of sheer desperation.

“Tsk tsk, none of that. I’ll be the only one moving here, do you understand?” There was a sharp bite to Harry’s earlobe, and he clenched his eyes shut. 

“If you behave, I’ll give you a nice reward.” Harry shivered. “You were so good for me when you let me fuck your mouth earlier, you were. My good boy. And you may think I’m letting you fuck me now, but just know this: you aren’t. I’m fucking  _ you--” _

Harry’s eyes squinted open, ever so slightly, and he caught Tom’s own eyes staring down at him. He was unable to look away from the intensity.

Tom lifted and pushed down, grinding against Harry’s cock as he spoke his next words, never breaking eye contact.

“And you’re going to do what I say, aren’t you?”

Tom paused in both his movement and his words.

Harry let out a shaky breath. “Yes, daddy.”

That seemed to please, or at least placate, him. A small smirk graced his mouth, and his eyes glinted like they had earlier. 

“Good, Harry-- Very good.”

Tom leaned his weight against Harry’s chest through the hand currently pinning him down, and pushed down on his cock once more. As he pushed and pulled, the drag aching ever so good on Harry’s cock, he picked up the pace, slamming down so hard it was almost unbearable. 

The sight of Tom bouncing up and down on his cock was absolutely hypnotising, and even if Harry had wanted to move and had the means to, not under Tom’s weight and order alike, he didn’t think he could have, his mind absolutely blissed out, head warm and vision almost seeing double at the sheer intensity of it all. 

Tom rose and fell hard and fast, occasionally letting out a moan to match Harry’s sounds that he hadn’t even realised he had been making moments ago.

“So good, daddy... “ His hand clenched against Tom’s who squeezed in return. A smile as genuine as Harry had ever seen from Tom split his face. 

He didn’t say a word, however, and kept riding Harry’s dick like it was going to disappear in the next minute. 

Tom was just  _ too _ tight and clenching  _ too _ hard against him that Harry knew he wasn’t going to last very long. As the thought hit him, a brief jump of anxiety made his heart skip a beat and his leg twitch.

“Daddy, I--”

“Don’t worry, darling-- come for me--”

Harry tried to relax his body, but as Tom increased his pace once more, he only grew tenser and tenser until the pleasure became too much, and he finally came.

Seconds later, Tom followed, shuddering as thick ropes of come splayed across his and Harry’s chest. He fell against Harry with a soft moan. While heavy, Tom’s weight was cozy in a way, pressing Harry against the seat.

In his post-orgasmic haze, all Harry’s mental functions seemed to blank and to do anything other than simply enjoy Tom’s warmth would have been impossible. 

It was only Tom’s voice that was able to draw him out and bring the world into focus once more.

“Happy Valentines Day, Harry.”

He nuzzled his head into the corner of the man’s shoulder.

“Thank you, daddy.”


End file.
